


in my burning clothes

by radiantflesh



Series: dark!steve verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Dark Steve, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Steve Rogers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantflesh/pseuds/radiantflesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m the only one who can match you,” Steve says, gently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in my burning clothes

Bucky shakes as Steve divests him of his clothing, too weak and stupid to take them off himself, cargo pants stiff with gore and boots heavy from drying blood.

Steve leaves the living room for a moment before returning with a glass of water. He watches Bucky gulp down an unsteady mouthful before leading him to the sofa, pointing his finger down to where Bucky crumbles gratefully at Steve’s feet.

“Oh Bucky, what am I gonna do?” Steve’s voice is soft, so gentle. Bucky shakes and shakes and reaches out an unsteady hand in Steve’s direction, blood dried a rusty brown, a hand that doesn’t deserve to touch him, just to plead-

“Please. Please. Don’t let them take me. Please. Steve.”

A sob wracks his body. His hand meets air as Steve watches him, that kind brow furrowed, worried, disappointed, because he’s given Bucky everything and now he might be taken away too, harmed, torn apart like the red, red, on that cobblestone, the red pooling beneath Bucky’s feet. He'd woken to gore and viscera smeared on cobblestone and the wailing of sirens, his mind a white vacuum devoid of memory. Then Steve. Then the horror and guilt washing through him in waves.

Now he was safe and others were safe from him and he was willing to do anything to keep it that way.

After a long moment Steve speaks.

“Hush,” Steve says, just as Bucky’s withdrawing his arm.

Bucky lets out a weak sob of relief when Steve reaches forward and heaves at Bucky’s underarm, pulling him to Steve’s lap. He’s apparently heedless of the mess Bucky will make, stroking a hand at Bucky’s hair and shushing him until he’s quiet again, shivering minutely with grief and exhaustion.

“I won’t let them take you, Buck. I told you I’d never let them take you again. Nod if you hear me.”

Bucky keeps his face tucked securely in Steve’s lap. He gives a small nod of his head.

“But you can see why I need to secure you, Buck, can’t you? Even though you didn’t like it before. You thought the arm was the danger but you see now baby, it’s you, huh. You’re dangerous all by yourself.”

Grief surges through Bucky like a tidal wave. His mouth opens in a silent cry against Steve’s thigh and oh, he doesn’t deserve even that, he shouldn’t be the one crying. Steve lets him shake and press against him and cry for a little while longer, petting at Bucky’s hair and neck, deep in thought.

“I can see you’re very sorry. And I know you didn’t mean it, but they won’t see that, will they?”

No, they wouldn’t. Steve’s fingers go tight in Bucky’s hair, demanding an answer. Bucky quickly shakes his head. No, no.

“So I have to keep you safe, for yourself and others.”

At that, Bucky lifts his head. His eyes are swollen and his face must look a mess, tear stained and snotty and dirty with dried blood and grime. Steve only looks at him patiently, raising an eyebrow so Bucky can speak.

“But I might hurt you, too,” Bucky says, dry and rough. He moves between Steve’s knees so he can grasp at Steve’s thighs pleadingly. He feels like he’s being torn in two inside, at the thought of losing the last person on earth who still loves him, who would never hurt him.

Steve gives a small, sad smile.

“You never think anything through, do you?”

Bucky’s mind stutters to a halt.

“I’m the only one who can match you,” Steve says, gently. He leans down to kiss at Bucky’s forehead.

“Up,” Steve says, even as he tightens his hold on Bucky’s hair and pulls it back, tilting Bucky’s head up so he can kiss his mouth. Bucky moans in surprise and thankfulness. Dirty, so dirty and Steve’s still kissing him, putting his mouth on sinful skin.

Steve pulls back, Bucky’s scalp tingling as Steve’s grip on him goes gentle again.

“That’s why you can never get that arm back again, do you understand now?” Steve asks.

Yes, it all makes sense. He can never have it back, he doesn’t ever want it back. And if Steve wants to hide him somewhere far, far away, somewhere small and safe he wants that too.

“Yeah, Steve. I don’t want it back, I promise.”

“Cause you don’t do that anymore.”

“I don’t. I don’t do that anymore.”

Then Steve smiles wide and it hits Bucky like a ray of sunshine, warming him from the top of his head to his toes. His heart swells and he smiles hopefully in return. Up until this moment he still thought that maybe-but it’s Steve and Steve will never let him go and he’ll never stop believing in Bucky and he needs to show him just how thankful he is, to try and make up for it as much as he can.

“I wanna say thank you,” Bucky says, hesitant, shy. His heart hammers as he slides a hand up Steve’s thigh.

“Baby, you’re so filthy, you wanna touch me with that dirty mouth?”

Bucky freezes.

“N-no. I’m sorry. I can clean up.”

“So you don’t want to touch me?”

Bucky’s mouth opens silently. He stares up at Steve, mind slogging like it’s moving through mud.

Then Steve smiles again, and _oh_.

“Better make it extra good then, huh?”

“Yeah. So good, Stevie.”

Steve smiles indulgently and widens his stance so Bucky can properly reach him. He fumbles at Steve’s belt clumsily with his one hand. He stops to check for Steve’s reaction and flushes when Steve cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at him in return. Oh, he can make this so good. He’s sure of it, pulse quickening for whole other reasons now, hungry to get his mouth on Steve, to take him in like sacrament. The desire to get a little better, a little cleaner every time Steve lets Bucky get his hands on him overwhelms everything else.

Bucky finally manages to pull Steve out and he leans in with a grateful moan, laving instantly up the underside of Steve’s length with his tongue.

“Oh, that’s it,” Steve sighs. 

Encouraged, Bucky leans in further, pressing his face to Steve’s crotch so he can start from the base of Steve’s dick. He licks up to the tip then takes the head into his mouth. He lets his jaw go slack as he pushes down then sucks back up and keeps at it until Steve’s length is swollen and flushed and big enough that Bucky can only fit the top half comfortably in his mouth.

Bucky’s pulling back when Steve’s hand settles at the back of his head.

“A little further, can you do that?” Steve murmurs.

Yes, Bucky can do anything Steve asks. He can at least try. Bucky opens his mouth, eyelids fluttering shut as he tries to relax, to take Steve deeper. He gags as Steve’s cock hits his soft palate, looking up at Steve through wet eyes. He pushes back to breath only to find Steve’s grip implacable. He chokes, and his next exhale comes out heavy and wet through his nose. Then Steve’s hand goes soft and Bucky can pull back.

“We’ll need to work on that,” Steve says, with a disappointed sigh. 

Bucky wipes at the wet of his eyes with the back of his hand then presses back in determinedly. Steve’s so hard and big now it’s even more difficult than before. His lips stretch wide around Steve’s length, swallowing around him, plunging his head up and down, twisting slightly as he works his mouth on Steve’s dick.

Steve pets at Bucky’s hair and shoulders slowly, guiding him sometimes but more often letting Bucky do the work, and Bucky’s thankful for that, mounting in eagerness and pride as he notes Steve’s pleasure building in the flush creeping up his throat, and the minute jerk of his hips. When he’s close Steve pushes Bucky off and takes a hold of himself at the base of his dick. His hard length stands wet and red, the long vein lining the underside bulging out with blood. 

Bucky breathes and waits, mind blank with the rush of it.

“Where should I put this load, baby?” Steve asks, flushed face contrasting with the steady gleam of amusement in his eyes.

“In me. In my mouth?” Bucky asks, the words tumbling awkwardly from his bruised lips. It hadn’t occurred to him Steve might not want to, and he’s suddenly, shamefully aware that Steve might consider him unworthy, even of this.

“Let me swallow it. Please,” Bucky says, suddenly desperate.

“Off,” Steve says, suddenly, leaning up in his seat. 

Bucky shuffles backwards immediately.

“Up on your knees. Open your mouth.”

Bucky obeys as quick as he can. His neck feels strained and his throat raw but he tilts his head back obediently. The floorboards dig into his sore knees.

Steve stands, stroking himself slowly now.

“I’m aiming for your mouth but you’ll have to put some effort in too, you got that? Any of it lands on your face you’re gonna leave it there to dry along with everything else. Any of it lands on the floor you’re licking it up and saying thank you.”

Bucky licks his lips nervously and opens his mouth wide.

Steve approaches so he’s inches away, the tip of his cock over Bucky’s slack lips. His strokes gain speed, the soft, wet sound filling the room as Bucky attempts to control his breathing, holding so very still.

“That’s it, baby. Keep that whore mouth open,” Steve says lowly, soft as an endearment, but Bucky feels it like a punch to the gut. Then he’s stripping his cock even faster and coming with a soft groan, wet landing in lines on Bucky’s tongue and lips. When he’s done Bucky swallows quickly, flinching away when Steve extends his arm down but its only to point at where spots of come have landed on the floor. Bucky leans down on all fours and licks it up as neatly as he can. Steve moves around him slowly, watching.

“What do you say?”

Bucky pushes up briefly to speak.

“Thank you.”

He licks at another spot. Swallows.

“Again.”

“Thank you, Stevie.”

When he’s done Bucky doesn’t dare look up, waiting for Steve’s verdict. Next time he’ll do better, Bucky wants to say, but it sounds like something stupidly obvious. Doing any worse is out of the question.

Steve sighs. Bucky’s almost sick with anxiety until he feels Steve’s hand settle at his hair. Exhaustion moves through him in a wave.

“What do you want now?” Steve asks.

The question knocks around loosely in Bucky’s brain. Steve said he was putting him away like this, Bucky’d heard him say it. So that’s what Bucky wants, he thinks, and it’s as if the rightness of the thought blooms instantly into pleasure in his chest and he knows he’s doing something right when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Keep me like this. Stevie, please.”

Steve kneels down. He rubs at the back of Bucky’s neck.

“Are you sure? You don’t wanna get cleaned up?”

“No. I’m dirty.”

Steve reaches for Bucky’s mouth and rubs his fingers at the tender flesh of his lips.

“Alright,” he says, sighing.

“Thank you,” Bucky whispers, kissing at Steve’s fingers, then his knuckles as Steve turns his hand over.

And he is, Bucky thinks, he’s very thankful.

*


End file.
